


Exalted

by baozisdragon



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Deals and Contracts, Demon King Hyunwoo, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Power Imbalance, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Summoner Hoseok, blood mention, heads up: hyunwoo bottoms, just a bit tho, of the deity/worshiper variety... sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baozisdragon/pseuds/baozisdragon
Summary: When Hyunwoo’s bare feet make first contact with the floorboards, the runework etched so carefully into them glows brilliantly in a red tapestry that stretches nearly from wall to wall. He observes absently that the language is competent, and the hand that had done the carving had done so with utter surety.Now, however, the little summoner is trembling like a newly shriven sinner.
Relationships: Lee Hoseok | Wonho/Son Hyunwoo | Shownu
Comments: 13
Kudos: 128





	Exalted

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be for one of the kinktober/mx halloween bingo squares, don't remember which, but obviously that fell through so here it is now :) also unbeta'd so if you see a mistake, tell me!

Hyunwoo feels the familiar tingling pull of a summoning in the middle of a crossroads deal from the other side of the world.

It’s a strong one, he’ll give it that, though certainly not strong enough to compel him. Just a tickle down his spine, a subtle itch creeping over his shoulders. An irritation. It’s enough that a lesser demon would have been plucked off of their feet, dragged through the Veil between worlds and spat out in the circle scribbled by whatever summoner had the inclination.

A King, however, gets dragged nowhere.

He finishes the deal and takes his time doing it, pocketing a portion of a soul in exchange for something trifling, wealth of some sort, he never pays too much attention to the things he promises. He sends the human off with a polite bow, noting that he didn’t receive one in return. All the while, his little summoner is working tirelessly trying to reel him in. The discomfort spreads from his skin to somewhere deeper, settling within his flesh with a sensation akin to ants crawling.

Finding his evening otherwise free, Hyunwoo grabs hold of the magic bothering him so much, and pulls himself along to its source.

When he appears back on the human side of the Veil, it’s without much pomp. Some hellfire is surely visible surrounding him, as is to be expected, and cloying black smoke can’t be helped, but compared to those practiced by his contemporaries (of which there are few), his comings may seem a bit… mundane.

If he weren’t who he was, of course.

His appearance now is par for the course; the small attic his summoner has chosen to work their spell in gets flooded with inky black smoke as the Veil tears, just long enough for Hyunwoo to step through. To a human it must be unbearable, scorching and oil-like, born from eternally burning brimstone fueled by sin. Hyunwoo’s summoner does not outwardly react from where he can see them knelt on the floor, body concealed by thick, ornately embroidered robes. 

Their head is bowed until it touches the floor, hands pressed palm down on either side of it, knees tucked beneath their body. Hyunwoo can just barely smell the slithery tang of blood in the air; the summoner’s, a part of the ritual. A bodily sacrifice. 

When Hyunwoo’s bare feet make first contact with the floorboards, the runework etched so carefully into them glows brilliantly in a red tapestry that stretches nearly from wall to wall. He observes absently that the language is competent, and the hand that had done the carving had done so with utter surety. 

Now, however, the little summoner is trembling like a newly shriven sinner.

Hyunwoo maintains his silence. As the Veil repairs itself behind him, he settles himself on this human plane. He adjusts his wings on his back, folding them so that the top joints, with their gold-tipped claws, sit high and wide above his shoulders. The whispering murmurs of his feathers draw a truly impressive shiver out of the magician still supplicating themself on the floor.

Hyunwoo is admittedly curious about this strong yet meek person, their desperation palpable in their magic, but not enough to spend the entire night of the full moon waiting for them to gather the courage to face him.

“You called, and I answered.” His voice carries through the space like a thundercloud rolling across the sky. “And I do not appreciate being ignored.”

Immediately, his summoner jerks to their knees.

His knees, it seems, as a wide-eyed man stares at him from beneath his sagging hood. Hyunwoo finds nothing but unmitigated awe in his unwavering gaze. Only the briefest of moments finds their eyes connecting before the human lowers his, instead studying Hyunwoo’s entire form. Over his face they glide, avoiding the sulfur yellow gleam of his irises to instead linger at his horns. Wide where they start behind his temples, they sweep out and then taper to a point just above his brow, pointing outward with splintered tips run though with liquid gold, spilling into the cracks and crevices until they look alive with ichor-filled veins. The same gold makes up his crown, suspended above his head in a mockery of a halo.

While this human takes his fill of him, Hyunwoo deigns to return the favor. 

He’s certainly interesting to look at, by a demon’s standard Hyunwoo would even call him beautiful. A soft, unpitted face marked by a wide mouth and peach-shaped eyes, with skin just barely tinted with blush over pale cheeks and a high-bridged nose. The picture of purity, knelt like a beggar at Hyunwoo’s smoldering feet. 

“My King,” the human finally speaks. His voice is low and shaking, just as his hands shake where he holds them out, palms up. Blood drips in dusty clods from the x marks he’d sliced into them. 

Hyunwoo inclines his head. He watches the summoner’s throat bob on a swallow. 

“I can’t believe it worked,” he mumbles to himself. Hyunwoo hides a grin behind tightly clenched fangs.

“Believe it,” he says. “I am now at your disposal, summoner. Use me as you see fit.”

Those round eyes grow even wider as the scarred hands wave emphatically.

“No, no! It’s the other way around, Sire, I would never-“

“Hmm,” Hyunwoo interrupts. “‘Sire’. ‘My King’. You know who I am, then?”

The summoner nods. “His Highness, King of Contracts and Covenants, Ruler of Crossroads and Cornerstones. Hell’s chiefest sovereign beneath the Devil himself.”

Hyunwoo lets himself smirk a bit after this. 

“Concise.”

The magician blushes. 

“And how did you come to know of me?”

The blush darkens. Hyunwoo’s interest peaks. 

“My name is Lee Hoseok, Sire, eldest son of the Lee line of conjurers. I have access to the largest library of magical books in the Eastern world.” Lee Hoseok shifts on his knees. “One such book is an index listing the members of Hell’s court. You included.”

Hyunwoo knows of this book, even sat for his portrait to be done and included when it was written. An interesting day that was, being painted by a human whose talent Hyunwoo himself had afforded him through a deal a few months prior. Not long after had found him collecting his due, scarcely after his portrait had been completed.

“I have summoned you for a reason, Sire. My invocation called you, specifically, not any other demon.”

Hyunwoo takes a step towards Hoseok. His bare feet leave black scorch marks in the wood of the floor, though the runes stay intact in their glow around them. Hyunwoo is impressed. He moves to stand barely a foot away from the summoner, eyes holding him in place like pins through a butterfly's wings. The human gulps once again, lowering his gaze. He doesn’t lean back as Hyunwoo approaches, however, instead leaning towards him, almost imperceptibly. A thought nibbles at the back of Hyunwoo’s mind.

“What sort of reason could you have for calling me, conjurer? You mentioned being made of use to me, what sort of use do you imagine you could fulfill for the chiefest sovereign under the Devil himself?”

Hoseok begins to shake, and he doesn’t stop. He leans forward until his hands are back on the floor. This puts his head dangerously close to Hyunwoo’s groin, close enough that the heat that pours from his body immediately turns Hoseok’s face flushed and dewy. 

“I desire-“ Hoseok cuts himself off with a short cough. “I desire to be yours, My King.”

Hyunwoo’s supposition proves correct. A languid smile curls onto his face. 

“Whatever for?”

Hoseok seems shocked to have gotten this far. “Your entry in the index… I have read and reread it dozens of times. I cannot keep my eyes from the portrait of you, ever since I first saw it I’ve felt as though a missing piece of myself has been recovered. I-“ His voice cuts off with a stutter.

Hyunwoo cocks an eyebrow, and Hoseok’s fingers tremble. 

“I fell in love, your majesty.”

Hyunwoo’s curiosity hits a peak he hadn’t before thought possible. He inhales deeply, sniffing for magic. He can smell the pungent spice of Hoseok’s own magic, the whole room steeped in it, but he finds no hint of foreign power, no covert love spell. Hoseok’s face, as he looks into it, is incarnadine, but wholly sincere. Earnestness drips from his very pores.

So it’s a true love, then.

Hyunwoo is very nearly thrown off by this. How can a human, with a heart so soft as to fall in love from naught but a portrait and a paragraph, become enamored with one such as him? A demon, a devil incarnate?

He articulates his thoughts. “You did so, knowing what I am?” 

“I did nothing by choice, even you yourself must know that love isn’t done with conscious effort. It simply happened.”

Hyunwoo can’t help but smile at this, crossing his arms across his bare chest. 

“Well. What a situation I've found myself in.” 

He waves his fingers, and Hoseok is brought off his hands to balance on his knees. When he reaches down to cup his chin, turning it to the left and right as if giving an inspection, Hoseok moves without resistance. 

“Such a pretty face, with such a pretty mouth that says such pretty words. I might just be the most blessed devil to exist.”

The human’s dark eyebrows slope up, as though in devastation. When he draws his lower lip into his mouth, Hyunwoo watches the way that his stark white teeth press sharply in, and dimple the plush flesh. His own fangs start aching.

“And what pretty promises he’s made as well. He ‘desires to be mine’, then? I wonder if he knows what that entails.”

Raising his free hand, Hyunwoo snaps his fingers. In a blink, the summoner’s robes have vanished, leaving him totally bare where he kneels at Hyunwoo’s feet. 

A startled noise leaves Hoseok’s throat, and his eyes widen into two glittering stars before he seems to steady himself, and take a bracing breath. He makes no effort to cover himself. His hands stay at his sides, open and grasping at nothing but air.

Hyunwoo maintains his gentle grip of Hoseok’s face even as he leans back just a bit, to appraise him.

Yards of unblemished white skin meets his gaze, taut over a surprisingly large frame. The layered fabric of the ceremonial robes had done well at concealing the breadth of his chest as well as the tightness of his waist, and the ample curves that made up his lower half. Hyunwoo doesn’t make efforts to hide his approval.

“A body to match the face, then,” he says. His voice has suddenly lowered. Hoseok’s hands fist and unfist beside his hips. Hyunwoo’s eyes trickle down to what lies between them.

The human’s arousal stands proudly, flushed a dark pink to match that of the lip stuck between his teeth. 

Hyunwoo wonders if he were a lesser demon, he’d have to wipe away drool. 

“Shall we make a deal, then, my summoner?”

Hoseok’s eyelids flutter as though he’d just been promised entry into heaven. His ‘Yes’ is the barest whisper of a breath. Quickly, Hyunwoo devises a contract fit for the man offering himself so readily, so whole-heartedly.

“How does an exchange of souls sound? For a piece of your living soul, I’ll trade mine.”

Words tumble out of Hoseok’s mouth. “You still have a soul?” His eyes widen. “Sire?”

Hyunwoo grins wickedly. “I don’t make much use of it these days, but yes, I have one. I once was human myself, as you surely know.”

Hoseok nods as he digests this new knowledge. 

“As I hold your contract, you are bound to me and to no one else. In turn, I am bound to you. What do you say to that, hmm?”

Hoseok sits still, in all his vulnerability. His eyes make unwavering contact with Hyunwoo’s, his mouth set in a stubborn pout, partially due to Hyunwoo’s grip. Even when Hyunwoo adjusts his formidable, inhuman wings behind his back, Hoseok’s discerning gaze doesn’t flinch.

“You’re not lying?”

Hyunwoo wants to coo. 

“You seem to know me quite well, pet. Am I one known for untruths?”

Hoseok fidgets. His eyes finally fall. Hyunwoo smiles.

“No?”

Hyunwoo strokes over Hoseok’s face with all the delicacy his clawed hands can muster. “Good boy.”

The corner of Hyunwoo’s eye catches the way Hoseok’s arousal jumps up towards his stomach. Involuntarily, his grip of Hoseok’s jaw tightens, and the summoner whimpers. He reaches up and wraps both hands around Hyunwoo’s wrist, not pulling, simply grasping. Hyunwoo finds any resolve he’d had evaporating into coal-dark smoke.

A wave of his free hand and Hoseok is brought to his feet. Hyunwoo finds himself still looking down to peer into his face, though the difference is not as great as he’d assumed. Even more a surprise is the sheer bulk of the man. His body is as sculpted as those of the human kings that are chiseled into marble and set in town squares. Hyunwoo has to remind himself that he is the one that holds all the power here, however much it feels like the opposite.

“You seem eager to prove your worth to me, little summoner.”

Hoseok doesn’t hesitate. “I am, my king.”

Neither does Hyunwoo. “You have my leave, then.”

In the latent red glow of the summoning circle, Hoseok’s white teeth gleam as his lips part ever so little.

Slowly, reverently, Hoseok’s hands come up, and settle on Hyunwoo’s waist. Unfortunately for the King, they immediately jump back and away. Hyunwoo assumes it’s due to the heightened temperature of his skin, but Hoseok’s face isn’t pained, but apologetic. Hyunwoo looks down to see maroon streaks of clotted blood, in the shape of spread hands, stamped onto his hips. Hoseok shows him his palms again.

“I’m sorry, I forgot-“

With a wave of his hand, the scores on Hoseok’s palms seal together like bodices being laced. The pale skin turns smooth and soft when then blood beads up and rolls off onto the floor. Not a single scar left.

The awe on Hoseok’s face when he looks back up is enough to have Hyunwoo’s chest puff up, just the slightest bit.

“I believe you were in the middle of something…?” 

Hoseok almost laughs, but catches himself. Hyunwoo finds himself almost wishing that he hadn’t, wondering what his summoner’s bright face would look like, transparently happy. He watches as Hoseok’s face tightens in thought. His newly healed hands gather in a nervous ball in front of his stomach. The poor human seems at a loss now that he’s gotten what he’s wanted, and Hyunwoo can’t help but find his sudden indecision somewhat... cute.

This helps Hyunwoo come to his own realization about the situation. The vague curling desire that had settled in his gut pulses in line with his thoughts. 

His eyes slither down the length of the human’s body with all the languor of a panther in repose, tracing the way that ferocious strength is held back by such soft skin. Below the full chest, below the granite hewn stomach, below the valley-shaped hips, Hyunwoo’s journey ends.

Hoseok has a magnificent cock. It arches up with regal pride, impressive in length but even more so in girth. It’s head is flared and such a pretty mauve, where the rest of it is pale but for a slight pink flush. As Hyunwoo watches, Hoseok’s stomach contracts nervously, and causes it to jump up. Molasses slow, the clear fluid that has been beading up at the tip overfills, and starts to roll down the gentle curve of the underside.

Hyunwoo’s hands buzz with the desire to touch. 

Feeling the sort of urgency that can only come from lust, his eyes catch sight of the lone piece of furniture in the room. It’s a lonely wooden chair, simply built, stuck in the far corner. Hyunwoo’s feathers flutter, and his eyes shine briefly. Hoseok jolts when the quiet is broken by the scrape of the chair legs across the floor as magic draws it towards them. It settles into place behind Hyunwoo, with Hoseok’s eyes tracking it the whole way. His expression is so openly awed that Hyunwoo can’t help but want to play with him, just a bit. 

His eyes glow ember-like once more, and the chair shudders, splinters, and grows until a throne bursts forth, upholstered in black velvet and adorned with golden embroidery. Inky smoke dissipates from the fabric when Hyunwoo’s wings come to rest. Hoseok’s knees wobble.

Hyunwoo settles himself back into the chair. He applauds his own craftsmanship while his weight sinks him comfortably into the seat, his thighs as open and inviting as he can make them. Hoseok doesn’t leave him waiting for long.

The summoner is quick to fall to his knees, his pale body seeming to glow as he kneels, swathed in the red glare from his own runework, a white stone parting the waves of powdery ash that still blow from beneath Hyunwoo’s impromptu throne. Bowed, Hoseok leans forward, and presses a kiss each to the tops of Hyunwoo’s bare feet. Kisses to his ankles, calves, and knees follow, until Hoseok’s sweet face is visible once again. Through the satiny material of Hyunwoo’s pants, Hoseok’s lips are cool, almost cold. Had he less control, Hyunwoo might’ve shivered. 

The teasing makes him impatient. He has no qualms with being worshiped, quite the opposite, but this beautiful human who he now shares his soul with is more of a gift than he ever anticipated, choosing to heed that bothersome summoning so few hours ago. 

Sick of exhausting his magic, Hyunwoo slips his clawed thumbs beneath the hem of his pants and removes them himself. Hoseok jumps back at his sudden movement, eyes zeroing in on the golden flesh revealed as Hyunwoo throws the balled up silk carelessly aside, and reclines back. Unshy, the king holds his legs apart, and sighs at the feeling of warm velvet against his skin. Hoseok’s breath makes funny noises as it catches in his throat. 

Hyunwoo cocks an eyebrow. Hoseok collects himself. 

Hyunwoo watches with eyes glowing and focused like a hawk’s while Hoseok scoots back into the valley of his thighs, repeating his show of kisses on skin now bare to the touch. Those cold lips feel so much more intense without that barrier of silk, leaving pinpricks of chill where they travel now up to the joints of Hyunwoo’s hips. That icy breath, just barely skirting the hilt of his hard cock, makes his toes press hard into the wood below them. 

“You… You have to tell me what you want, Sire. I need to know what you want.” Hoseok speaks. His eyes never leave the place that his breath had touched just a moment before.

Hyunwoo hums. “I have to, do I?”

Finally, Hoseok’s gaze meets his own. There’s a steel to it now that intrigues Hyunwoo greatly.

“Yes.”

Hyunwoo smiles, lecherous and slow. His canines catch on his lower lip. 

“Yes, indeed.” Hoseok’s eyebrows slope. “I’ll ask for two things, then. Firstly, my name is Hyunwoo. The man who owns half of my soul will not call me ‘Sire’.” Hoseok’s eyebrows slope more. “And secondly? I want that man to fuck me like he’s never fucked any of his lovers before me.”

Hoseok nearly falls over while Hyunwoo smiles on. Hoseok’s body shakes like it had when Hyunwoo had first appeared before him. 

“Sire, I— ah, Hyunwoo. I haven’t ever… You would be the first.”

Hyunwoo’s lungs seize in surprise. The only visible reaction is his eyebrow where it arches sharply.

“You’re not trying to convince me that you’re a virgin, my pretty thing. Not looking as you do.”

Hoseok turns as red as heart blood. 

“I am, in this way.” His fingers fidget where they still sit on Hyunwoo’s thighs. “In other ways, I am not.” His eyes implore Hyunwoo to understand.

Hyunwoo, always quick, feels his smile sharpen, a knife’s slash across his face.

“You are, as I am constantly being reminded, so wonderfully full of surprises.”

When he takes Hoseok’s chin in hand, the human watches him with large, glittering eyes. Hyunwoo squeezes his fingers, careful of his claws, to pucker those petal soft lips. He leans forward and quickly presses his own against them. A half-second of smooth, cold skin, and he pulls away. He starts to lean back, ready to speak more reassurances, but finds himself pounced upon, his upper body slamming back into the fine upholstery with Hoseok’s full weight resting on him. Those lips, again, meet his.

Hoseok kisses him like a drowned man breathes air after breaching the surface. His mouth is as sweet and yielding as he is, meeting Hyunwoo’s with gentle but passionate force. Cool hands slip beneath Hyunwoo’s head, one cradling his skull and the other leading an arm in curling behind Hyunwoo’s neck, tugging him ever closer. 

That hot arousal that had faded during Hoseok’s confession flares back up with hot vengeance, lighting Hyunwoo ablaze as the ichor-like veins running through his horns glow like the full moon against a black sky. He kisses Hoseok back just as fiercely. Their lips part in perfect synchronization, and allow their contrasting breaths to mingle. Between frantic presses of their mouths Hoseok speaks, mumbles, hurried little whispers that sound as though they’re said without him being conscious of it at all. 

“Thank you, thank you,” he gasps. “Oh, thank you.”

Hyunwoo swallows the words like ambrosia. His own hands crush Hoseok to him, resting on a back that feels much like lovingly carved marble and squeezing him onto his own chest. A moan travels from Hoseok’s lungs and into Hyunwoo’s. Pressed against Hoseok’s lower stomach, Hyunwoo’s cock throbs.

The human notices. 

He pulls back.

Hyunwoo barely catches himself from following him, already desperate for the perfect pressure of those now red and swollen lips. Hoseok looks just as wanting, and yet he moves in the opposite direction, slinking down Hyunwoo’s body with a surprising amount of grace. He ends up on the floor once again, on his knees in between Hyunwoo’s, hands now resting with itchy anticipation on the muscular contour framing Hyunwoo’s erection.

A single hesitant second passes where they simply look at each other. The tension mounts, makes flames spark in Hyunwoo’s eyes. Hoseok leans forward and finally takes Hyunwoo into his mouth.

The breath explodes out of Hyunwoo’s chest as Hoseok savors over the head, letting the crown pass in and out of his mouth with eyes closed in almost pained looking bliss. His tongue circles it, flicks over it, and presses against it as if he wants to memorize every last texture presented to him. Hyunwoo’s stomach muscles flutter with every move he makes. One of his hands makes its way into Hoseok’s thick black hair and simply rests there while he fights every urge he has to just fuck into the wet mouth presented to him, knowing that even if he did, Hoseok would take it with as much contentment as he shows now.

As if in tune with Hyunwoo’s thoughts, Hoseok begins to take more and more into his mouth, lowering himself until the entirety of Hyunwoo’s cock is sheathed past his trembling lips. His tongue runs back and forth along the underside while Hyunwoo pants. Precum drools directly into Hoseok’s throat as a thread of saliva that had passed through the ring of his lips dribbles onto Hyunwoo’s balls. Shivers rack his body as Hoseok finally pulls off, until only the head remains in his mouth. He breathes deeply, refilling his surely aching lungs. Their eye contact is charged and heavy now, with Hoseok’s eyes being glassy and bright where Hyunwoo’s shine their unnatural yellow, half-lidded. Hoseok lowers himself again.

While Hoseok worships Hyunwoo’s cock, his hands find their own opportunities to become useful. Cold fingers send a jolt through Hyunwoo where they settle on his groin, thumb heavy over the top of his balls. More begin a terrible and amazing back and forth path over the most sensitive place, short, shaky passes past his entrance. Hyunwoo releases his first true moan while Hoseok’s throat quivers around him. His hips make aborted half thrusts, caught between the wintery wetness of Hoseok’s cursed mouth and the torturous teasing of his hand. His erection slips even deeper into Hoseok’s throat because of this, which he attempts to apologize for. Only, before he can, Hoseok makes a garbled whimper, and struggles to replicate the depth on his own. Hyunwoo’s breath dies in his chest. He makes another short thrust; an experiment. Hoseok cries out again, drool coating his chin and a lone tear breaking free from his dark, clustered eyelashes. 

Hyunwoo enters nirvana as his hips begin their own rocking motion, and Hoseok swallows with frantic greed around him. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s orgasmed until he’s left slumped and twitching on his throne, Hoseok letting his softening cock slip from his mouth alongside his gasps for air. When he sits back, a sparse cloud of milky steam escapes from his parted lips. 

Wordless, Hyunwoo raises a quavering arm, and snaps his fingers. 

Smoke entombs the two as Hyunwoo falls softly to the floor, causing Hoseok to tumble into his lap with a shout. Hyunwoo wraps him in his arms as his body settles onto a mound of silks, soft enough that none of his feathers get bent or tussled as his weight sinks him into the folds of the pillowy fabric. Their vision returns as the smoke dissipates, showing the two of them that the re-purposed throne has disappeared, only to be replaced with a pallet of black silks and pillows. Hyunwoo now finds himself on his back with his wings spread wantonly, Hoseok blanketing him from his place between Hyunwoo’s legs. When he picks his head up off of Hyunwoo’s chest, his eyes hold that familiar awe that they do whenever Hyunwoo exercises his magic, causing something like fondness to curdle in his chest. 

Hyunwoo strokes a hand over Hoseok’s sweat-damp forehead while grinning. Hoseok’s gaze finds his finally, which causes his cheeks to darken. Inexplicably, Hyunwoo wants to kiss them. 

So he does. 

Hoseok squirms as Hyunwoo pulls him up and presses kisses to his cheek and lips, showering him with them until a giggle bursts forth. 

Retaliating, Hoseok takes the next kiss from Hyunwoo, pressing it into his mouth with a questing tongue. Hyunwoo welcomes it with his own, stroking and caressing it as deftly as he can with extremities still sensitive from his orgasm. Hoseok’s mouth still holds onto some of the heat that had transferred from Hyunwoo’s own body, meaning that their kiss doesn’t take as much time to boil over. Almost as an afterthought, the two of them begin to rock their hips together, Hoseok’s arousal waking up Hyunwoo’s, stiffening it until they can thrust together and feel the full impact as their cocks brush, wet and twitching. 

Hoseok breaks the kiss to speak, though his hips keep up their intoxicating motion the whole while. “I have nothing to ease my entrance, Hyunwoo.”

Hyunwoo’s eyes flash gold. “Yes you do, love.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows slope once more. “No, I-“

“Yes. You do.”

At Hyunwoo’s pointed glance, Hoseok looks to the side to see a small, wide-brimmed bowl, filled with dark oil. Steam rises from the surface, and smoke shrouds it. Hoseok laughs again, breathy and disbelieving, and sits back on his heels, reaching for the bowl. Hyunwoo lifts and spreads his legs further as Hoseok dips his fingers into the viscous liquid, even pulling one of the smaller pillows over so that his backside rests on it. Bared to Hoseok’s sight, he tries not to snap at the human to hurry. 

Instead, he calms himself by drinking in the sight of him. His white skin is decorated by so many points of red flush, gilding his body and accentuating the power of his musculature. When he goes to stroke over his own erection, hand dripping with oil, his head lolls back with pleasure, broadening his already thick neck and tightening the generous contours of his chest. Hyunwoo longs to do some worshiping of his own, but vows to do it another time. For now, his only thought is to be filled by that gorgeous cock that peeks at him now past it’s owners furled fist. 

His impatience makes itself known again, and this time, he acts on it. While Hoseok continues to slick himself up, his eyes having fallen shut, Hyunwoo reaches until he can cover his entire hand in the hot oil he had conjured, and brings it between his own legs. Hesitation and care be damned, he posts two fingers at his entrance before thrusting powerfully in. 

His muscles give way happily, allowing him to easily draw them back out and back in. A sigh tumbles around in his chest, and it’s his own turn to let his eyes fall closed as he focuses only on the sensation afforded by his own hand. 

They hurriedly open soon however, at the feeling of a third, foreign finger joining the first two. Hoseok chews on his full lower lip as he works his finger into the blazing inferno of Hyunwoo’s body. 

Hyunwoo drops back against his silks, soaking hand resting on his lower stomach, giving Hoseok all the room he needs to explore him. The human catches on quickly to the fact that Hyunwoo is well past the point of feeling pleasure from a single finger and so, on the next thrust, breaches him with three. Hyunwoo grinds his hips down onto Hoseok’s hand, rolling the crown of his skull against the pillow he’d fallen against with eyes once again screwed tightly shut. Hoseok is handling him so carefully he could scream.

His erection throbs where it lies so woefully neglected on his hip bone, just a hair's breadth from his oiled hand. He ignores it.

Hoseok’s fingers burn like cursed ice inside him, leaving every centimeter of skin he touches frosted over like winter dew on tall grass. They sting, just barely. Hyunwoo craves it like nothing he’s ever craved before.

His impatience is translated through the fervent swiveling of his hips and the way his wings sweep out and back with the whispery rustle of his feathers sliding past each other. Hoseok looks torn, his lip still abused between his teeth where he had so carefully held Hyunwoo’s cock just minutes prior. Hyunwoo makes the decision for him.

He sits up with a flourish, abdominal muscles stark in the crimson gloom, to wrap a clawed hand around the back of Hoseok’s neck, yanking him forward. A snarl bares his fangs when he speaks, an inch from growling the words directly into Hoseok’s mouth.

“Enough.” His horns skirt over the top of Hoseok’s head, and he flinches. Hyunwoo has never had a man before him look more like prey than in this moment. “Fuck me.”

If Hyunwoo had not trusted himself as he does, he would have worried Hoseok had been put under an unintentional spell by the look on his face. One of only a few degrees below fear, below awe, above worship. His round eyes spell reverence, and his round mouth absolvement. Those eyes glitter, swim, black irises reflecting the gold of Hyunwoo’s. He nods.

Hyunwoo releases him and falls back in time with Hoseok removing his motionless fingers. Hoseok is putting obvious effort into hurrying when he reaches out to reslick his cock with the still hot oil, grimacing as he strokes himself, free hand landing to brace himself on the spur of Hyunwoo’s hip. As he positions himself between Hyunwoo’s splayed thighs, cock head so delicately kissing Hyunwoo’s boiling skin, he seeks eye contact with palpable desperation. Hyunwoo holds it, watching the way sensation plays across the summoner’s face as he slowly pushes in.

Hoseok fills him exactly as he’d known he would; perfectly and completely. His body welcomes him in with all the ease of a blade through tender flesh, pliant where the rest of him holds so much power. His head rolls back on his shoulders as Hoseok buries himself to his hilt, his hips shaking with the same frequency of his hands where they now lay on the pallet below them, bracketing Hyunwoo’s trim waist.

Hyunwoo suddenly feels giddy, playful. “How do I feel?” He asks. 

“L-Like hot coals,” Hoseok pants. “Hot coals and the fire that left them so.”

Hyunwoo grins, satisfied.

Hoseok begins to piston those powerful hips then, rolling them in patterns that cause the smile to slide right off of Hyunwoo’s face to make room for the moans that slither past his lips. Hoseok’s breaths wheeze in and out of him in time with his motions. The rhythmic slapping of his pelvis against Hyunwoo’s thighs is the sweetest hymn he’s ever heard, but Hyunwoo wants more. He lifts his legs further, widening himself, giving Hoseok more room to work. The way his breaths become sharp little whines tells Hyunwoo that he’d done well. The friction of Hoseok’s cock, the skin as satiny smooth as the rest of him, past Hyunwoo’s hole is addicting and enslaving in equal turn. Hyunwoo knows now that he’ll never be better fucked by any man, never be made to feel the same all-encompassing ecstasy as he does now.

How luckily for him, that this gentle human had fallen so sweetly in love with one such as him.

Hoseok recaptures his sharp gaze when Hyunwoo feels him lower his peerless body onto his own, his mouth at the right angle to press wet, chilling kisses to the cliffs of Hyunwoo’s collarbones. Hyunwoo arches his back, pressing his erection into Hoseok’s lower belly, sighing. He wraps his arms around Hoseok once more, holding him close, breathing in the scent of life and vitality and rosehip oil from his dark hair. Without him trying, his claws just barely puncture the flawless skin of Hoseok’s back and shoulders, pulling the loudest moan yet from the man where he holds himself above Hyunwoo. His hips thrust harder, cock tearing in and out of Hyunwoo so forcefully that breaths get punched out of the devil’s chest.

Hoseok’s short, sporadic whimpers become a continuous whine, squeezed reedily from his flushed throat. Hyunwoo is inclined to mirror him, but traps the sounds behind a clenched jaw. He wants to hear Hoseok, hear every last sound he makes, familiarize himself with them until he could compose an aria using them alone. His bliss sings to him like an exaltation.

Oblivious, Hoseok continues fucking him as though it was for his life.

“I’m nearly there, Hyunwoo, I’m close.” 

Hyunwoo cradles him, touch now soft. He reaches to clasp Hoseok’s chin as he’d done before, bringing his face before his own once again. He’s flushed starkly, incarnadine and glowing. His eyebrows nearly meet with how sharply they’re drawn up, his eyes hooded and speaking of only need, of exigency. If Hyunwoo had not known better, he’d have thought himself in the presence of an angel.

Hyunwoo whispers, voice steady. “Do you think you’ve earned it?”

Hoseok’s voice catches on an aborted sob. His face crumples. His hips do not still.

“No,” he gasps. “No, I-”

“I would disagree,” Hyunwoo interrupts. Hoseok cries.

He shakes his head, expression crumpling as he fights all of the sensations to be present, and fails. Hyunwoo finds him unbearably precious.

“I believe you’ve more than earned it, pet.” Hyunwoo stretches his arm out to grab Hoseok’s ass, meeting more than enough muscle to fill his palm. He uses his grip to pull Hoseok into him harder, deeper, reaching the part of him that sends fiery pleasure racing through to the very tips of his feathers and points of his horns. Hoseok yelps, his body trembling, anticipating his rapture.

Hyunwoo whispers to him once more, directly into his mouth where he finally reconnects them. 

“Finish, now. Let me feel it.”

Hoseok does. Hyunwoo feels his orgasm ripple through him with primal force, tightening every last muscle he has until his body rocks into him as though truly statuesque, marble. He buries himself into Hyunwoo as deeply as their anatomy allows and then some, his thighs like iron bars, sealing him inescapably. His release fills Hyunwoo like the tide returning from a frozen sea, sending chills cascading down from his scalp to his toes before he himself has even finished.

Hoseok settles, just for a moment. Hyunwoo thinks he’s completely exhausted the poor human to the point of collapse, seeing the way Hoseok still shakes. Again his assumption of Hoseok is only wrong.

With another heaving breath, Hoseok begins the same intoxicating motion as before. Hyunwoo nearly shouts in surprise. Hoseok is obviously fighting the oversensitivity that nearly freezes him, biting back the pain-pleasure that contorts his sweet features into something animal, something demonically lovely.

Hyunwoo approaches his second orgasm with fearful speed. Hoseok raises himself on one hand to grab Hyunwoo’s cock, pumping it fiercely. On a final stroke, both with his hips and his wrist, Hyunwoo finally cums, the memory of Hoseok’s finale still inside of him pushing him to once again descend. His wings flare out behind him to nearly reach the opposite wall as gratification consumes him.

Hoseok fucks him through it until the end, battling the ferocious squeeze of Hyunwoo similarly locked muscles to prolong the feeling for him as much as he can. Only when Hyunwoo shudders instead of stills does he stop, pulling out with all the tenderness he can muster with his body still so sensitive. For what seems to be ages, the two of them simply breathe, and recover.

Unable to stop himself, Hyunwoo laughs. 

It’s wispy, hardly more than a cough, but catches Hoseok’s gaze anyway. Hyunwoo strokes a palm down the length of Hoseok’s pretty face.

“Remind me to send a gift to the man who taught you the craft of summonry.”

Hoseok ducks his face down, smiling.

“It was my mother, actually.”

Hyunwoo laughs again. “Then to her.”

Hoseok falls onto his side to Hyunwoo’s left, careful to land below Hyunwoo’s wing. His eyes stay stuck on the short, broad feathers closest to him, and Hyunwoo feels fit to indulge him. 

“Feel free to touch,” he says. He imagines that he’ll be doing a lot of indulging in his future. Just the idle concept of telling Hoseok ‘no’ sounds impossible.

Hoseok’s eyes sparkle at him in thanks as he moves to run the pads of his fingers down the length of one of the dark feathers. He kisses it when his fingers have passed, and nearly laughs to himself as the soft fibers tickle him.

“Can you truly fly with these?”

“I cannot,” Hyunwoo says. He begins running his fingers through Hoseok’s hair as he speaks, watching as the summoner’s eyelids flutter shut when his claws lightly scratch his scalp. “These are merely decoration. Others can. You might.”

Hoseok’s eyes fly back open.

“Me?”

“Of course. You are the owner of half of my soul now, yes? Half of a demon’s soul. What does that make you?”

Hoseok looks awe-stricken again. His reply is mousy and soft. “Half demon.”

Hyunwoo’s fangs slip past his lower lip as it widens in a smile bespeaking nothing but fondness. Hoseok looks shocked, and a small bit frightened, but there is absolutely no disgust nor anger in his eyes when they come back up to meet Hyunwoo’s.

“So… Wings?”

“Yes, wings. And some of these,” he prods Hoseok’s forehead with the tips of his horns, “- as well.”

Hyunwoo spares a moment to picture it. Hoseok’s alabaster body, framed by dark wings just as powerful as the rest of him, round and soft face dark in the shadow cast by curling, twisting horns. The image alone is nearly enough to stiffen him again. Hoseok simply hums in contemplation.

Eventually Hyunwoo gestures for Hoseok to stand, following him while stretching his tired muscles. The resonant soreness between his thighs curls his lips as he magics his silk pants back on, and watches Hoseok skillfully put back on the dark, heavy robes he’d been wearing when Hyunwoo had first appeared. The covering of that exquisite body feels almost blasphemous, not as if that were something that Hyunwoo shied from. Still, he very nearly pursed his lips as Hoseok finished the final tie, concealing the whole of him from his neck to the floor.

Once ready, he rejoins Hyunwoo’s side, sliding a tentative hand around Hyunwoo’s arm as he does. Hyunwoo crooks his elbow to make it more comfortable for him, earning a blinding smile.

At the wave of his hand, another hole gets torn in the fabric of the human plane, baring the vast, echoing blackness of the Veil. It swallows the red glow still shining from Hoseok’s runework, and ruffles their hair as air is funnelled into the dark maw. On Hoseok’s face, Hyunwoo finds no fear.

“If you don’t mind, I believe you have a contract to sign.”

Hoseok’s eyes sparkle as he hides a smile behind a pale hand, fingers tightening around Hyunwoo’s bicep. Together, the two of them stride, in step and with heavy purpose, through the jagged doorway that Hyunwoo had summoned. As Hyunwoo’s last heel passes through, the hole collapses in on itself, wind rushing through it until it finally disappears, no trace of it ever having existed left behind.

The tiny attic is left in darkness as the red glare slowly bleeds from the runes, leaving only innocuous gouges carved into the old wood. Moonlight glistens over the remains of the silks, dulling as they slowly dissolve into a pile of soot and ash. Next the bowl goes, leaving the oil to soak into the floor before it’s gone as well, evaporating into the silent air.

The only evidence of anything at all lies in the ghostly shadow of powerful magic, and the unmistakable, permeating scent of sex.


End file.
